


Spent Shell

by BalefireFlatlands



Series: The Balefire [4]
Category: Mad Max (Video Game 2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: Blas has the Imperator's favor and Scab wants to show his worth.





	Spent Shell

It was late, and it was cold. Scab had been in Jeet’s stronghold for almost five days. Proving his ‘worth.’ So far that had consisted of him sprawled out on the metal catwalk being a snarling, feral, screeching menace to anyone who got close to him. After a while people stopped walking past him and he had no one to growl at.

Except Blas Cap.

And that was just as unfulfilling as not yelling at all since Blas ignored everything he could hurl at him. Most of what he said was crazed ramblings that the Bullet Boy didn’t understand anyway, he didn’t speak Gastown’s special brand of lunacy. Scab had grudgingly stopped trying to attack him since he was the one who was bringing him food. Though he’d tried to pull himself over and steal Blas’ meal and the Bullet Boy had responded by shoving him onto his stomach and sitting on his legs, effectively incapacitating him. No matter how the War Boy struggled he couldn’t get out from under him or twist his upper body around in a way to be able to pull him off. He was stuck seething and yelling until Blas let him up a full hour later.

But now he was gone. Jeet had come and pulled him away to a storeroom for some reason, and he hadn’t come back yet. Shivering Scab rolled himself into the thin sheet he was using as a blanket and pulled himself onto his palms. Using his immense upper body he dragged himself into Blas’ domain, legs slithering behind him like some half snake person. Blas had several blankets, a thin mattress, and had pinned some fabric to the walls to create a small cave in the alcove he slept in. It was about six feet wide and deep but only tall enough to sit up in, lined with fabric, the walls and ceiling covered in schematics for guns and various drawings of bullets and explosions. Scab pulled himself into Blas’ little blanket fortress, collapsing face first into the softness. It was so much warmer in there than where he had been sleeping. He’d meant to stay awake, chase Blas off somehow when he came back and claim this spot as his own, but now that he was warm and comfortable he was asleep within minutes.

—

Blas panted, fingers tangling in Jeet’s hair. Jeet had him on the ground, shoved up against a wall and some crates and was currently assaulting his neck with his teeth. One hand was pressed against the wall by Blas’ head, the other was digging into his hip so tightly he was probably bruising that yellow skin. He wasn’t thinking about that though, he was only thinking about the amazing noises that Blas was making. Keening whimpering moans that were being pushed out of him with every thrust.

Whole body writhing Blas wrapped one of his lanky legs around Jeet, heel digging into the small of his back while his other foot was flat against the floor, trying to brace himself against the ground and keep from being pounded into the wall. He slid somewhat, letting out a sharp cry as his head knocked back exposing more of his neck for Jeet to bite at.

“That’s it Bullet Boy. Lose yourself to me.” Jeet was loving this, his prisoner completely at his mercy and barely coherent as he struggled to hold onto him. It had taken a long time to get Blas to this point, getting him to relax and actually enjoy sex rather than tensing up and waiting for it to be over. Months probably, but Jeet was determined, and the payoff was so, so worth it.

The Bullet Boy’s hips bucked up as he gasped out a curse, whole body tightening as he climaxed. He clutched at Jeet as the warlord slammed into him hard and let out a curse of his own. Gasping for air Blas detangled himself from around Jeet, playfully flicking one of the metal arrowheads in Jeet’s arm as he pulled back. Jeet moaned, collapsing onto Blas’ chest briefly before he shakily got to his feet, staggering around and retrieving his clothes.

Blas snickered at him as he pulled his pants back on, wriggling his hips around to get into them without getting up. He slid down the wall, flopping out with arms extended, taking up the whole floor.

“Hey, I’m not gonna carry you. Get up.” Jeet dropped to his knees next to him, wrapping his arms around Blas’ chest and helping to haul him standing.

Blas started to get up, then abruptly went limp, dragging them both to the ground. “You couldn’t pick me up if you wanted to.” If Blas wasn’t so malnourished and emaciated he’d be a whole lot bigger than the twitchy little warlord. Jeet grumbled and struggled back up from where he’d face-planted into the Bullet Boy’s stomach. Reaching out Blas tousled his hair before finally getting to his feet, smirking as Jeet swatted at him dourly. The man just couldn’t relax for more than a minute.

“You’re the worst prisoner I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only prisoner you’ve ever had. So my way of thinking that makes me the best too.”

Jeet glowered which only made Blas grin wider. “Guess you’re better than that bloodbag out there.”

“I hope so.” Blas gingerly walked in a circle in the storeroom, breath white in the frigid air. “What you gonna to do with him?”

Jeet shrugged into his vest, frowning and running his fingers through his wispy hair. “Not sure yet. We could hang him off a pole out one of the windows and he can be a lookout. Yells enough for that anyway, got a pair of lungs on him like a convoy horn. Then when I get tired of feeding him. Whoosh.” He made an unmistakable motion with his hands indicating Scab plummeting to his doom.

Blas nodded. He’d be glad when he could work in peace and not have a bitter, frothing War Boy screaming at him every few minutes because he was bored. It definitely did not help his concentration. Though flicking powder at him and watching him try to avoid it had been amusing enough.

Jeet exited the storeroom, heading upstairs to go wander around and yell at some of the residents, complain loudly about something. Keeping up appearances. Blas returned to his little alcove, dropping down onto his mattress before realizing that the lump next to him wasn’t a mound of blankets but a sleeping War Boy.

Growling he shoved him away, trying to unwind his blanket from under Scab’s twisted up legs. “Get out!”

Waking up Scab tugged back on the blanket trying to push Blas out of the alcove. “No! I’m claiming this.”

Oh no he wasn’t. Blas let go of the blanket scrambling up to straddle Scab and hauling his good arm back so he could slam it right into his face. It’d been a long time since he’d gotten into a scuffle, and usually he backed down because he was at such a disadvantage. However half of Scab’s body didn’t work, Blas was on even ground here.

Scab’s head slammed back into the ground, blood starting to stream from his nose. He punched Blas in the stomach, grabbing for his neck and slamming him into the back wall, pressing his fingers into his throat. Blas scrabbled and grabbed for Scab’s wrists. He kicked and thrashed, but what he could reach to kick, Scab couldn’t feel, Blas hadn’t expected that.

And then Scab pulled back slightly, a strange look on his face. Loosening his grip Scab leaned forward, putting his face against Blas’ stomach and breathing in deep. “You’ve been rutting.” Blas froze. “A traitor and a whore.” Settling back Scab removed his hands, letting Blas go, hoping that he’d be embarrassed enough to run off and leave the blanket pile to the War Boy.

He didn’t. “I’m not neither.” Kicking at Scab’s stomach he tugged at one of the blankets again. “Move. I’m going to sleep.”

Scab wasn’t about to let it go, slithering over his stomach as Blas pulled a blanket over himself. “How was he? Make you moan?” Scab chuckled leaning down to lick Blas’ neck. “Make you scream?”

There was a brief moment where Blas closed his eyes, almost tilted his neck for more of that, then his arm shot out from beneath the blanket, jabbing into Scab’s throat. “Shut. Up.” Shoving him off, Blas curled up, tugging the blanket up around himself and turning his back on the War Boy. Scab growled but subsided somewhat, flopping over to the side and settling down into the mattress. His legs were still splayed over Blas but he hadn’t noticed, twisting himself around so he could lay on his stomach, bunching part of the blanket up to use as a pillow.

It was warmer in the blanket cave, but it was well below freezing outside and Scab woke up a few hours later, shivering. Blas was curled into a tiny ball, only the top of his head poking out from beneath a mound of blankets, but Scab was sprawled out, losing heat rapidly. Pushing himself into a vaguely sitting position he dragged his unresponsive legs back next to each other, making sure all of him was covered with a blanket. Was it enough? He looked over at Blas tempted to try and steal the blankets away from him.

Instead he reached out an arm and dragged Blas closer to him, covering them both with all the blankets. Blas didn’t wake up as he was pulled against Scab’s chest, his back flush with the man’s stomach. Scab shivered again as Blas’ feverishly warm skin met his. He still smelled like sex, like sweat and musk and Jeet’s cum running down the inside of his pants. Of themselves Scab’s arms tightened around him, suddenly wanting. He hadn’t had any human contact since he’d been paralyzed, he’d been stuck hanging upside down when he was being used as a bloodbag, or in a small cage when he wasn’t.

The smell was bringing back memories though. Of sex and rape and pleasure and pain and roughness. Things he wasn’t going to have anymore, couldn’t because of his injury. He listened to Blas’ breathing, deep and steady, he was sound asleep. Stupid Bullet Boy, Scab could have throttled him to death by barely moving his arm. Could have gauged his eyes out. Killed him in any number of ways and he wouldn’t have even known it was coming. Why hadn’t he fought more? Kicked Scab out of his space? The War Boy didn’t understand, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when he had a nice warm body to press against, for the first time in years.

When Blas eventually woke up he found himself completely tangled up with the War Boy. Blankets and long, floppy limbs all entwined together. Groaning he shoved at Scab only to realize how incredibly cold it was. The War Boy was a source of heat and suddenly Blas didn’t want him to go away. Unfortunately, Scab woke up almost immediately, thrashing violently having no idea where he was or what was happening.

Blas rolled over to pin him down, grabbing one of his wrists and slamming it into the ground over his head. “Stop! You’re letting cold air in.”

Scab stared up at him, chest heaving, breath panting out in white puffs. He stopped struggling though, everything crashing back to him from the night before. The smell. The warmth. Blas cautiously let his arm go, settling back to sit on his stomach. “No one’s going to hurt you, stop attacking everything.”

“Could still take you, Bullet Boy.” Scab growled, not ready to give up anything or admit any sort of weakness. Blas rolled his eyes wondering if it would be easier to just kill him now and not have to deal with him anymore. The War Boy was eyeing Blas in a way that was not reassuring at all, like maybe he really was going to try and attack him. Instead he brought his hands to Blas’ thighs, stroking down his legs. “You like being on top?”

“What’s that matter?” Though yes, he did. The stroking felt nice and he wasn’t going to move away, though the source was questionable. He didn’t really understand what Scab was getting at.

“Does that burnt up excuse for an Imperator let you top?” His fingers wrapped around the top of Blas’ pants, pulling them dangerously low. He wanted this warm, damaged Bullet Boy. Wanted him in ways that weren’t possible in his current state. Whenever he wanted things he just took them, but in this situation he couldn’t, wasn’t even really sure what he could do about the lust building in him.

Blas ignored the question, concentrating on the fact that this broken War Boy was attempting to strip him. “You wouldn’t even be able to feel nothing.”

Scab growled, being reminded of his injury was infuriating. He hauled back and punched Blas right in the stomach, shoving him off to the side when Blas doubled over with a wmphing noise. Pushing him down on his back Scab slithered on top of him, dead weight keeping him pinned to the ground. “I am more than a spent shell! I could make you scream Bullet Boy.” Without missing a beat he leaned down, biting Blas’s ear and starting to work down his neck. One hand reached back, pulling his legs to the side so he was somewhat straddling him. For all his bravado he had no idea if this was going to work. He couldn’t feel his legs, couldn’t feel anything much below his waist actually. And it wasn’t like he’d jerked himself off in the cage in the Mechanic’s shop, he had no clue if his dick worked. Or if he was going to be able to get off ever again. But now was a good time to try.

Fortunately he’d been imprisoned with someone who was super sensitive and pleasure deprived for the majority of his life. Blas moaned, hips jerking, hand coming up to grab at Scab’s side. He was holding right in the place where Scab started to lose sensation and his muscles twitched, strange tingling feelings shooting out from beneath the Bullet Boy’s fingers. He stopped his suckling of Blas’ neck, gasping out a breath. That was a good start, he liked that.

But then Blas pulled his fingers away, slid his hand down so he could get his pants off. Scab couldn’t tell what he was doing though, just that the pleasurable jolts of sensation were gone and he didn’t like that. “Hey. Hey! Don’t stop. Get back here.”

Scab reached down to try and pull Blas’ hand back but was suddenly shoved away, slammed down onto his back with surprising strength from a guy with only one arm. Blas was already naked, was working Scab’s pants off and tossing them to the side with a lecherous grin on his face. He ignored Scab’s snarls of protest, obviously the War Boy wanted to be in control. But he didn’t have much of a choice as Blas was already spreading his legs apart, pushing his fingers into him.

“Can you feel any of this?”

Scab propped himself up on his elbows glaring down at his groin. He shook his head, staring in fascination as whatever Blas was doing with his fingers caused his cock to harden, standing upright and then curling back against his stomach. He couldn’t feel that either, and he growled, furious. Blas knelt between his legs, pulling him partially into his lap and lining his dick up against his hole. There was almost no resistance, Scab wasn’t in pain so he wasn’t tensing up and Blas was able to slide into him in one thrust.

He wanted to know if Scab could feel any of this too, but then he didn’t care anymore, because this felt amazing to him. Closing his eyes he started to thrust, rhythmically making Scab’s numb legs jiggle. Scab frowned and laid back, he didn’t like that he couldn’t feel what was going on and that he was being jostled all over the place. He lay there for a while, whole body jerking as Blas pounded into him. Opening his mouth to yell some more he abruptly shut it, hissing and clenching his hands into fists. “What’d you do?!?”

Blas froze, thinking he’d injured him somehow. “I moved your legs up. I can move 'em back and..”

“No! Do it again.” Blas did. The sound Scab let out was definitely a moan. He had no idea what Blas had done, but sensation had exploded in his abdomen. It was pins and needles and pleasure and it felt so good it hurt. Burned. Blas had managed to find the one small area that still had feeling and his body was over reacting. Complete lack of stimulation for so long led to Blas riding Scab to climax in a matter of seconds. His body couldn’t handle that much sudden movement against something inside him that was now overly sensitive from atrophy. He couldn’t feel his cock, couldn’t feel himself cum all over his stomach, but he could definitely feel the orgasm. It traveled up his spine causing him to writhe and scream, fingers clenched so hard in the blanket he put holes in it.

Well then. Blas didn’t stop, he’d gotten rock hard watching Scab be reduced to a vulnerable mess like that. He was still making noise, because Blas was convinced that Scab was utterly incapable of being silent, but at least he wasn’t yelling or talking. Finishing himself off with a loud groan of bliss Blas stayed where he was for a good minute or so before pulling out. He did Scab the courtesy of pulling his legs back together before he tumbled over to the side, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling, panting hard.

Scab was barely there, but he twisted himself around, yanking his legs over so he could drape himself across Blas’ chest. It was still freezing after all. Blas brought both arms around him, too out of it to keep his damaged arm at his side like he normally did. Scab muttered something that seemed less angry than normal, pulling the blankets over them again. Sweaty and panting it took them both a while to fall back asleep, but when they did they were both out cold.

Which meant that they missed the leader of the stronghold squatting just outside the entrance to Blas’ somewhat private room. Bundled in a puffy green army jacket with the hood up Jeet simply watched them. His normally dour expression looked somewhat thoughtful. He’d been there a while, heard them both when Scab had woken up and started yelling, and came to make sure that Scab wasn’t trying to kill Blas. Blas was the valuable one, he was the one who worked the armory, knew how to make bullets and guns and all sorts of other things. Scab was expendable and Jeet would kill him in an instant and not have any remorse.

But what he’d found them doing was … unexpected. He wasn’t sure if he was mad. Or maybe jealous. But he was definitely not pleased about this development. Actually he was tempted to go in there and beat them both for if. But he didn’t. He sat there for a while, watching as they lay in a heaving pile, sweaty bodies steaming in the chill.

They were both resources to be used. And he would use them as he saw fit. Maybe both together. His expression cleared, something like a smirk gracing his features as he stood up. Now that was a thought, something he’d have to act on when it was’t so cold.


End file.
